The practice is called electioneering; the cheat sheets are called “voter guides.”
Attention: Homeowners and People Selling their Homes.
Stop fucking painting every goddamned thing WHITE.
I despise white kitchens. I despise seeing every goddamned piece of wood in a house painted white. I am thoroughly repelled by looking at a picture of your living room and it is nothing but a monochrome sea of white. And Goddamnitsomuch, your fucking white living room with the white carpet and the white marble surrounding the white fucking painted brick fireplace is going way too far. You should be killed by being drowned in white latex paint.
Our pet duck, Fudge, has bumblefoot. Who the hell even knows that bumblefoot is even a thing? It looks uncomfortable as hell and it’s stressing my soft-hearted wife out. And it was less than a month ago I developed a nasty allergy to duck eggs, so now this little beast is less than useless except as a companion to our black lab. And we’re playing host to a couple of homeless relatives (and their three dogs) who couldn’t be arsed to find jobs of any flavor since getting evicted last April. Evidently camping in the woods (aka: fucking mountains) west of Boulder, CO and smoking the weed was a better strategy than thinking 5 months into the future, and what happens to the weather in Colorado when winter sets in. Fuggin ant & grasshopper is playing out under my own roof. I hope we don’t end up getting snowed in this winter because I’m one axe away from transforming my house into the Overlook Hotel.
Rant#1
PO website coded the package I am waiting for “Undeliverable as Addressed” how is that possible? IT WAS ADDRESSED TO MY PO BOX. I despise the US Post Office.
Rant#2
Why does Amazon frequently tell me a particular item can not be shipped to my PO Box AND THEN USE THE POST OFFICE FOR DELIVERY??? I despise Amazon.
Sometimes over lunch I’ll park at a local nature preserve and eat before reclining the seat and catching a 15 minute doze in my car. It’s hardly the town hotspot but some people walk their dogs or use the outhouse so it’s not abandoned and desolate either. Seeing a car in the lot isn’t unusual but you wouldn’t see five of them.
Perhaps once a month, someone will take the effort to lay on their horn as they pass behind my car. This doesn’t really “wake me up” as I wasn’t really sleeping but I do have to wonder about people whose joy in life comes from trying to rudely startle other people before driving off (presumably) giggling madly at what a scamp they are.
It’s election day and no one in our house has gotten any information about what’s on the ballot, assuming anything is. I guess I should check.
Here in my neck of the woods it’s the porch light. On, trick or treaters welcome. Off, no candy here, move along.
I see rooms like that and I think of Karmann Ghia from The Producers: “White, white, white! The color of our carpets!”
My gf told me it was Election Day this morning. I had no idea; there aren’t any signs around, and I don’t answer my phone if the number isn’t a known contact.
She told me who to vote for and why. She knows me pretty well!
That’s because it’s supposed to be your blank canvas to inspire your inner artist to express him/herself to make it into the home you want it to be.
Or some shit like that.
I bludgeoned my inner artist to death decades ago.
Then don’t paint my brick and woodwork.
My inner artist is sitting in a yellow room, next to a tangerine room, up-hall from a strawberry living room, a 1958 green bathroom and a kitchen done mostly in green and white with orange accents.
Even in places where such bright colors wouldn’t be appropriate, painting over brick is a sin unto clay.
Today is election day. We walked in to the polls to hear the warden ripping a new ass for one of the 70+ year old election volunteers. I suspect the election supervisor is going to be looking for a new warden next cycle when she gets off the phone with me in the morning. What I heard was in the ‘elderly abuse’ area.
#1:
A tad over ten years ago, my grandmother had an extra bedroom added to the house, wedged in between my bedroom and the garage. It’s not attached to the hallway, though, so the only way in/out of that new bedroom is through my bedroom, or via the outside.
I recall having a really bad feeling about that contractor, and was concerned he did a shoddy job, especially with regard to the wall on the garage side. There is a major “gap” between the wall of the bedroom, and the (formerly exterior) wall of the garage.
Fast forward to this year. Sure enough, water has gotten into that gap and permeated the walls, creating a severe black mold/mildew problem on both the interior garage wall and in the bedroom’s closet.
Guess who gets to clean it up? :smack: Thank goodness for high-velocity fans and that door to the outside, because the only openable window in the room… no longer fucking opens! (The other window has a window AC unit in it). I have it running, blowing outside air in, and the fan blowing air out of the open exterior door. At least the room is getting ventilated as I do this “dirty job”.
=====
#2:
Earlier today, I was on a leisurely bike ride. As I was waiting at a stop sign where a residential street crossed a major arterial for the traffic on the arterial to clear and permit my safe crossing, this dudebro in a lifted Ford pickup truck approaches me from behind and honks… and honks again… gets within ten inches of my rear tire… and honks again.
Undeterred, I patiently waited for traffic to clear and crossed the arterial safely. It’s amazing how many morons don’t respect bicyclists.
=====
#3:
Later on said leisurely bike ride, I was headed down a residential street, and encountered a father and son tossing a football across the street to each other. As I was about to pass between them, the ball was in the father’s hands.
Now, I’ve got some good speed going, and am going downhill. This asshole steps into the street and extends the hand with the football in front of me. I barely had time to swerve around him; he’s lucky I didn’t have slower reflexes, 'cause my raised handlebars would probably have broken that arm.
I’m in complete agreement about the brick and woodwork, but the paint may be to cover up a greater crime.
Such as a truly gruesome color of paint. Or that some previous owner was a chain smoker and the only thing to be done for the smell is to hermetically seal it under a coat of impermeable plastic.
Fortunately paint on brickwork is usually easily dealt with by walnut shell media blasting. Years of smoke is another matter entirely.
I like the name of the thread. But then again I am doing the challenge, so…
I pit house hunting on a tight budget. Hard enough to find my own forever home, but also finding it within a tight confine of price? Bah! Especially since we found an awesome place, but the seller refused to make the corrections we needed to make it work. So back to the drawing board.
That’s not a greater crime, that’s the same crime!
Same crime, different level of offense.
Fucking radiology clinic canceled my mammo appt. I get myself all psyched and prepared. They called 15 minutes after I left. Their machine died. Their next appt 12/23 at 9PM WTF? So no mammo until next Spring.
FUCK THEM!
Oh god, my back hurts. And the worst.thing is that there is literally no comfortable position for me right now. Even lying down is painful.